A Trace of Vice. Блейк Пирс

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A Trace of Vice - Блейк Пирс


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7 p.m. and the temperature was in the high forties now, but she’d left her jacket in the car so she’d have greater range of motion. She could only imagine how sticky she’d be if she’d left it on.

      One of the officers rapped on the door, sending a jolt through her entire body. She bent a little lower to make sure no one peeking out a window could see her behind the bush. The movement caused a light twinge in her rib. She had broken several in an altercation with a child abductor two months ago. And while she was technically completely healed, certain positions still caused the rib to get grumpy.

      Someone opened the door and she forced herself to shut out the street noise and listen closely.

      “Are you Dean Chisolm?” she heard one of the officers ask. She could sense the nervousness in his voice and hoped whoever he was talking to couldn’t as well.

      “No. He’s not here right now,” a youngish but surprisingly confident-sounding voice answered.

      “Who are you?”

      “I’m his brother, Sammy.”

      “How old are you Sammy?” the officer asked.

      “Sixteen.”

      “Are you armed, Sammy?”

      “No.”

      “Is there anyone else in the house, Sammy? Your parents maybe?”

      Sammy laughed at the question before getting control of himself.

      “I haven’t seen my parents in a long time,” he said derisively. “This is Dean’s house. He bought it with his own money.”

      Keri had put up with just about enough of this and stepped out from behind the bush. Sammy glanced in her direction just in time to see her holster her gun. She saw his eyes widen briefly despite his best efforts to act blasé.

      Sammy looked like a carbon copy of his big brother, complete with pale skin and multiple tattoos. His hair was black also but too curly to make spiky. Still, he wore the required punk uniform – black T-shirt, skinny jeans with an unnecessary chain hanging from them, and black work boots.

      “How did Dean manage to buy his own house at just twenty-four years old?” she asked without introducing herself.

      Sammy stared at her, trying to decide whether he could blow her off or not.

      “He’s a good businessman,” he answered with a tone that hinted at defiance without completely going there.

      “Business been good lately, Sammy?” she asked, moving a step forward, staying aggressive, hoping to keep the kid off balance.

      The two uniformed officers stepped down so there was no one between Keri and Sammy. She didn’t know if it was a conscious decision on their parts or them just wanting to get the hell out of the middle of the confrontation. Either way, she was happy to have the floor all to herself.

      “I wouldn’t know. I’m just a lowly high school student, ma’am,” he said, sounding more brazen.

      “That’s not true, Samuel,” she charged, glad that she’d read the file on Chisolm that Edgerton had sent her while they drove to the house. She saw that using his given name startled him. “You dropped out last spring. You just told a lie to an LAPD detective. That’s not a great start to our relationship. Do you want to repair it?”

      “What do you want?” Sammy demanded, full of guarded petulance. He was off his game now, stepping out onto the stoop against his better judgment.

      He was oblivious as Ray quietly came out from around the other side of the house and set up position a few steps behind the boy. Keri stepped toward him to keep his attention on her. They were now less than four feet away from each other.

      “I want to know where Dean is,” she said, dropping the playful pretense. “And I want to know where the girls he brought over this afternoon are.”

      “I don’t know where he is. He left a few hours ago. And I don’t know anything about any girls.”

      Despite being a juvenile delinquent in training, Keri she knew that Sammy had never been arrested, much less served time. She could use his fear of the prospect to her advantage. She decided to go in for the kill.

      “You’re not being straight with me, Samuel. And I’m losing patience with you. We both know what business your brother is in. We both know how he can afford this house. And we both know that you’re not spending your free time working on getting your GED.”

      Sammy opened his mouth to protest but Keri held up her hand and barreled on without pausing.

      “I’m looking for two missing teenage girls out there. They were brought here by your brother. It’s my job to find them. If you help me do that, you can lead something close to a normal life. If you don’t, it’s going to go very badly for you. This is your one chance tonight to avoid getting put in the system. Cooperate or it’s down the rabbit hole.”

      Sammy stared at her, trying to keep his face untroubled. But his eyes were unnaturally fixed and his breath was shallow and quick. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. He was terrified.

      What Sammy didn’t know was that Keri didn’t have a warrant. If he’d just stayed inside the house and refused to speak to them, they wouldn’t have had much recourse other than to call for a warrant and wait outside until it was approved.

      But by stepping outside to engage with her and leaving the door open, he’d made himself vulnerable. He didn’t realize it yet but whether he agreed to help or not, they were getting in that house. His next decision really would determine his immediate future. Keri hoped he could tell she wasn’t bluffing. She hoped he’d choose wisely. He did not.

      “I don’t know anything,” he said, unaware that he was only sealing his own fate.

      Keri sighed. She almost felt sorry for him.

      “Did you hear that?” Ray asked.

      Sammy, unaware that anyone was behind him, nearly jumped out of his boots.

      “What the…?” he started to say. Ray interrupted him.

      “Detective Locke, I think I heard some cries for help from inside. Can you hear them too?”

      “I think I can, Detective Sands. Officers, can you hear that too?”

      The two uniformed officers clearly couldn’t but didn’t want to be the weak links. They both nodded, and for good measure, the one who’d first knocked on the door added, “For sure.”

      Ray rolled his eyes at the clumsy effort but continued anyway.

      “Officers, can you handcuff Mr. Chisolm and put him in the back of your car for now while Detective Locke and I check out that crying?”

      “This is BS,” Sammy shouted as one of the officers grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to cuff him. “You can’t hear anything. This is an illegal search.”

      “I’m afraid not, Sammy,” Ray said, unholstering his gun and preparing to enter the house. “Those cries we all hear create exigent circumstances. Maybe go to law school once you get that GED, buddy.”

      “You should have listened to me,” Keri whispered in Sammy’s ear before she walked up the steps and pulled out her gun. Ray nodded and they both entered with weapons raised.

      The place was a sty. There were empty beer cans everywhere. Fast food wrappers littered the stain-dotted carpet. Music was coming from somewhere in the back.

      Keri and Ray made their way through the house quickly. Neither of them expected to find much. The fact that it was devoid of people suggested that it had only been a staging area. Girls were likely brought here thinking they were attending a party only to be drugged and then moved en masse.

      Keri found the back bedroom where the relentless techno music was coming from and turned it off. She stepped into the adjoining bathroom and saw a pair of panties balled up beside the toilet.

      With a creeping anxiety, Keri returned to the bedroom and noticed something she’d missed


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